The Princess and the Cat Part 1: The End
by Red13Rabbit
Summary: It has been many years since Sansa has seen Arya. Now that war has come to Winterfell again, they meet. Cannon Divergence. Future fic.


Queen Sansa, the Red Wolf they call her still, despite her hair having gone gray long ago. She kneels in front of the weirwood tree, staring at the blank face carved into its trunk. The branches of the tree are bare. They lost their red long before she did. A Valerian steel sword with a wolf head pommel lays next to her. The sounds of battle outside of the castle seem strangely muffled here. She doesn't pray. She hasn't for a very long time.

Soft footsteps approach from behind before stopping a few feet from her. Sansa doesn't turn. She doesn't need to. She knows it's her sister.

"It's been awhile," Sansa greets when the footsteps stop a few feet away from her. Her voice is soft but it sounds loud to her ears.

"_The Red Wolf is here to see you," the guard called through the door. Sansa rolled her eyes at the use of the name. She was there to see her sister; there was no need for titles. At least she hadn't called her Queen. Arya would have teased her about it the whole visit._

"_Better let her in then. Wolves aren't known for their patience!" Was the reply. The guard flinched a little._

"_Sorry your grace," she said as she opened the door and bowed to her. Sansa suppressed her laughter._

_She stepped into the room where Arya was going through a sword drill. The room was fairly bare. There was a simple desk with an unlit lantern and some weapons on it, a plain wooden chair next to the desk, and a bed. The weapons were the only personal items in the room. The rest of Arya's stuff was already aboard the ship Sansa the door was closed, she went to sit on the edge of the bed._

"_The guard is new." It wasn't a question._

"_Aye," Arya replied, still doing her drill. "Nel. She's good with a sword, but awkward around people. I appointed her to me a fortnight ago. Once I leave you should consider her for a position in winterfell. She reminds me a bit of Brienne."_

"_Oh? I'll have to introduce them then." Arya paused for a second longer than needed to give her sister a look._

"_So Brienne is speaking to you again?"_

"_Yes," Sansa smiled. Brienne had been quite grumpy with her when she dismissed her from the Queen's Guard. "It seems making her Master at Arms did the trick. She is very good at teaching."_

"_I'm surprised that she didn't come with you then."_

"_She did." Arya stopped in her movements completely to give her a surprised look. Sansa smirked in response. "After the long ride, she and Tormund wanted some alone time. They'll see you off tomorrow."_

"_So they have finally gotten together. Good." Arya resumed her drill. Sansa watched her, enjoying the comfortable silence. It was something she had missed in the weeks Arya had been at White Harbor. Finally Arya finished her drill and carefully placed her sword with her other weapons. _

"_Joan wrote to me," Arya said as she opened a drawer on the desk. She pulled out several papers. "A lot."_

"_What did she say?" Sansa asked. She pulled her feet up as Arya walked over and sat next to her. _

"_She is sorry she can't come to see me off. Apparently being queen is not as easy as you and her mother made it seem," Arya replied. Sansa rolled her eyes. Joan had been begging Sansa to be her Hand since Dany had passed. Now it seemed she had recruited Arya to help convince her. "She seems to be getting rather desperate." Arya gives her sister a look. "You could at least help her find someone else suitable."_

"_You know as well as I that it would take months to convince her of anyone else. She is as stubborn as Jon was. I have two kingdoms of my own to run," Sansa said sternly._

"_Lyanna can take care of the North for that long," Arya said just as sternly._

"_And the Vale?"_

"_Our cousin, Sweetrobin, is not the child he was when winter began. He can handle the the Vale for a few months." Arya gently took Sansa's hands in her own. They locked eyes. "She is our niece. She has only ever known winter. Visit her Sansa. Show her your summer face." Sansa smiled at her sister. She had a point._

"_Okay."_

"Do you think this is what Bran saw?" She closes her eyes to hold back her tears. "Do you think this is what he was trying to prevent when he called out to you?"

_Arya stood with slumped shoulders facing the weirwood tree. Sansa stared at her sisters back. She wanted to comfort her, but didn't think her efforts would be welcome._

"_It's my fault," Arya's voice was quiet, but easily heard in the silence that permeated the godswood._

"_No, it's not," Sansa stated firmly. She didn't need clarification. She knew what her sister was referring to. It had been a week since that battle. The sisters had spent that week assessing the damage, tending to the dead and wounded, reorganizing the supplies. Before that had been weeks of siege. This was the first quiet moment they'd had together in a long time. Jon was with the Dragon Queen somewhere, preparing battle plans or fucking Sansa couldn't say._

"_Bran would still be alive if I hadn't hesitated!" Arya puntutuatiated her statement with a punch to the tree._

"_Or you would be dead too!" Sansa didn't quite yell back. "He told you to stop," she continued softer. She put a comforting hand on Arya's shoulder. "The Night King was right in front of him. He knew what that meant."_

"_I didn't stop because he told me too." It was said so softly that Sansa had to strain her ears to hear, even in the quiet. Arya turned towards her, averted eyes glistening with unshed tears. SSansa was surprised to see such an obvious show of emotion from her sister. "I stopped because," she paused to angrily wipe the tears that were starting to fall. "Because it was _Bran _that said it. Not the Three-Eyed Raven."_

_Arya met Sansa's gaze, silently begging her to understand. And Sansa did. Since reuniting with their little brother, he had been so different. All of the Starks were different than when they had left Winterfell so many years before. Bran, however, had been the most changed. At times it barely seemed like he was even a person. They had taken to referring to him as the Three-Eyed Raven because to call him Bran hurt too much._

_Sansa pulled Arya into a hug. They stood holding each other for a long time. Tears silently fell down both their faces, for all they had lost._

"It sounds horrible, but I'm happy he died that way." Sansa gives a choked laugh at her words. "As himself."

She stands slowly using the sword at her side as a crutch. Her joints protest the movement. Once standing, she turns to greet her visitor properly. Arya looks so similar to the last time Sansa saw her yet so different. A beautiful face that she made fun of in her foolish youth, now with more wrinkles and scars. Hair once the America's dark brown as their father's, now white as snow. Sansa smiles sadly as she adjusts her grip on her sword.

"I wish I could give you the same, sweet sister." Her heart aches as she stares into eyes that were once gray. Eyes that have been turned into a cold, other worldly blue by death and magic. Sansa raises her sword sword. The Night Queen does the same.


End file.
